The Color of Darkness
by tigerlily815
Summary: Peter Pan never fails. Or so he thinks. But when Pan meets Violet Wood- bonafide rebel and magic extraordinaire- he may have met his match. Violet Wood is the leader of an organization that has been working against Pan for decades. She is willing to do anything it takes to defeat Pan. But when Violet begins to infiltrate Neverland, will her loyalty to her cause be enough?
1. Chapter 1

My heart pounds frantically in my ears. I watch him closely, my eyes glued to his smirking face. Hatred boils inside my stomach and I grit my teeth. He laughs smugly, throwing his head back in total rapture, and rises off the ground and into the sky, already flying out of Skull Rock. But we can't let Pan get away. Henry's life depends on it. I catch Arida's eye and nod. She dives toward Henry, and I shout loudly, distracting Pan.

"Hey, Pan!" I called, running over to the side of Skull Rock, below the gaps in the stone that Pan had just flown out of. I search for a handhold, spotting a small rock ledge and using it to heave myself up to the holes. I sling a leg over the side of it, straddling the stone. I turn to see Pan, and find him hovering in the air nearby, arms crossed, eyebrow raised in amusement as I pant for breath. He stares right at me, narrowing his eyes. I smile at him.

Then I disappear, gasping as the pang that always comes with using magic cuts through me. I reappear behind Pan, hovering over in the air with apparent ease. But I know I'm stretching my magic. Flying takes up a lot, and I've never been particularly good at it. My hands shake from the effort, so I stuff them in my pockets nonchalantly.

"So, Peter, how's it going?" I say.

"Who are you?" he snarls, spinning around to face me.

I smirk at him, "Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? I'm Violet. Violet Wood." I extend my hand toward him, "And you are Peter Pan." He watches me carefully for a second, no doubt going through his mental list of facial expressions. In the end, Pan settles on his usual smirk.

"So you have magic," Pan remarks casually. "But what are you doing here in Neverland? Trying to save Henry like the rest of this pathetic band of misfits?"

I raise my eyebrows and grin devilishly, "You think only boys feel lost? Well, there's lost girls too, ya know."

He crosses his arms skeptically, "Who's your leader?"

I imitate his stare, crossing my arms, "Well, _I_ don't have a leader. I am one of the leaders. Me and my bestie Arida. But really, she's more of a second-in-command. Like Felix."

"You're lying," Pan says confidently.

_No_, I think, _believe your lies, Violet, they won't be lies if you believe in them._

"Nah," I say. "Unlike _some_ people, I don't lie to children for fun."

"Why should I trust you?" he retorts.

"Why not?" I shrug, holding back a hiss of pain as my magic wavers. I drop a couple of inches in the air, hoping Pan doesn't notice. I can't keep up this nasty flying business for much longer.

He rolls his eyes, "Because—"

"I'm like the female equivalent to you. Think about it, Pan. Not too hard, though. You might hurt yourself," I say even though the thought of being his so-called "female equivalent" disgusts me.

He hesitates, and I glance out of the corner of my eye, locking eyes with Arida.

_Ready?_ I think. Ever since we first met, Arida and I have been able to communicate with our thoughts. Telepathy is the fancy word for it. I call it my imaginary telephone network.

She gives me a thumbs up, _Pantastic!_

"Ponder that, Panny boy, I gotta go," I turn and press my lips gently to his.

He definitely wears lipstick.

I yank Henry's heart from his chest and laugh at his stunned face. "Thanks for the donation," I say as I fly away, back inside Skull Rock.

"A kiss?" Arida asks incredulously, looking up from where she is bent over Henry's limp body. "That was the only distraction you could think of?"

"Like you could do better," I snap. Arida laughs.

"Actually, it would have been far more logical to-" she begins.

"Never mind that," I snap, grimacing at the memory of the- ugh -kiss. "Regina, here's Henry's heart. Get him to Hook's ship as soon as you can and don't let him out of your sight. Pan is bound to come back for him. We'll do our best to keep him away from Henry, but we can't take any chances or make any promises. You can never be too sure with Peter Pan."

Regina nods, gently grabbing Henry's heart. She clasps it with both hands and presses it gently into his chest, a glow of red and gold light blooming as the heart enters the body of its rightful owner. I turn to Arida, "Get the others," I pause for effect, raising an eyebrow in a mocking imitation of Pan. "We've got a Pan to beat."

"A Pan to defeat," Arida corrects. "Beat sounds so childish."

"No, I actually mean beat," I grin. "Like with a wooden stick. Or a heavy brick. Or even better, Felix's club."

"Second-in-command," Arida grumbles to herself, pulling out a packet of papers with weird symbols and complicated diagrams on them. "I'll show you who's second-in-command when I hack into your Facebook account and post that you think Peter Pan is gorgeous."

**xxxxxxxxx**

I sit on top of Skull Rock with my chin resting on my knees, bored, waiting silently for Pan to appear and get all Peter Panny in my face. He does that.

"You're clever," a voice says behind me. British accent. Annoying confidence. Threatening tone. Whoever could it be?

"I already know I'm clever, Pan, I don't need you to tell me that," I say without turning around. He laughs, not like a your-fail-is-so-funny laugh that he normally has, but more like an I-like-you-so-I'll-laugh-at-all of-your-jokes-even-the-bad-ones laugh.

"Call me Peter," he says lightly.

I turn to him, "What's with the personality change, Pan?" I raise my eyebrows, "Peter."

He clears his throat and shifts his feet, clearly nervous, "Well," he starts, "if you are my girl equivalent—" ew "—then it would be pointless to fight you, because I never lose," he hesitates and clears his throat again, "And I, uh, like myself so I, um, decided to, uh, like you," he looks up at me, his eyes pleading, "So. . . yes or no?"

Holy . . . holy cuss words.

"I—I—"

He smiles mischievously, "Ponder that, Violet, I gotta go," he blows me a dainty kiss and floats off into the dark, night sky.

Well, damn.


	2. Chapter 2

Arida's POV

"So then Felix screamed. Just like a little girl!" Tinkerbelle exclaims, in the middle of telling me a story about her time here in Neverland. I laugh at the thought of Felix screaming like a girl. While the others took Henry to Hook's ship, Tink had stayed behind to keep me company. I am glad she had stayed. Skull Rock would be a creep-tastic place if I were here all alone.

Tinkerbelle is opening her mouth to continue the tale when Violet sort of floats back into Skull Rock, dropping down a few inches at a time until she lands next to the hourglass, taking a few stumbling steps to regain her balance. She definitely does not land as gracefully as Pan, and I make a mental note to tease her about it later. Violet looks dazed, her mouth hanging open very slightly, her eyes unfocused.

"You know, Tink," I say conversationally. "Maybe you should go. I think it is high time me and Violet had a BFF girl chat." Tink hesitates, looking between me and Violet.

"I'm a girl," she says. "I can do girl chat."

"No, you're a fairy," I reply seriously. "Hearing our twenty-first-century girly girl talk would drive you out of your mind."

"Alright," Tink agrees reluctantly, rising to her feet and striding towards the staircase. "Have a nice... girl chat." I watch as her blond head disappears down the winding stone staircase, listening to her footsteps.

"Okay, so—" Violet starts. I hold up a hand to stop her.

"No, not yet. Tink's footsteps stopped. She's eavesdropping," I say. "Mind your own beeswax, Tink!" I hear Tink curse and her footsteps as she trudges away.

"I hate you, Arida!" she calls out. I chuckle.

"No, you don't," I shout back.

"Yeah, she does," Violet says playfully. "A little bird told me so."

"A little bird?" I ask, raising both eyebrows. "I didn't know Pan was a little bird." Violet punches me in the shoulder lightly, and I pretend to fall over dead.

"Oh, you've killed me," I gasp. "Is Pan a touchy subject?" Violet nods, telling me 'duh' telepathically. Still laying sprawled next to the hourglass, I smirk at her.

"Was it something he said? Or was it something... physical?" I suggest innocently. Violet glares at me murderously, and I hold up both hands in defeat.

"What? What did I say?" I ask.

"Why would you even imply that?" Violet exclaims. I shrug, sitting up and propping my elbows up on my knees, resting my chin on my hands.

"Come on, I know that look," I say coaxingly. "My boy drama sense is tingling." Violet takes a deep breath.

"You're right... it is boy drama," she says. "I think I'm in love... with Felix."

"What?" I shriek, and Violet grins, laughing, half-halfheartedly.

"Just kidding," she says, oddly calm.

"Not funny," I glare at her mutinously. "Seriously, though, you can't have feelings for Pan. It's way too dangerous, not to mention stupid."

"I don't have feelings for him," Violet insists.

"Uh-huh, sure," I say disbelievingly. "You're a really bad liar, Vi."

"I don't even like him!" Violet says.

"You don't have to like him to think he's cute," I say persistently.

"He is not cute," Violet says firmly, "He's uglier than Felix, which is really saying something."

"Oh, come on. I saw you checking out those eyebrows," I tease. Violet huffs, sitting down on the other side of the hourglass, blatantly turning her back and sulking.

"We need to make a plan," I call to her. Violet doesn't respond, just ignores me.

"Look. I'm sorry about what I said about your liking his eyebrows," I apologize. "But we need to put our plan into action. The sooner we can take down Pan, the sooner we get back to Storybrooke."

"What exactly is the plan? Do we even have one?" Violet asks, finally speaking, but still not turning around to face me. "Is it one of those crazy diagrams in that heavy book you always carry around?"

"What? No. Those diagrams are just for show. They make me look smart," I say, chuckling. "The plan was originally to kill Pan and get out. But we realized your magic isn't nearly strong enough to take down Pan just like that, so I came up with a new plan."

"Fantastic," Violet mutters under her breath.

"Pantastic," I correct. "I call it Operation Fudge Cookie."

"Why?" Violet says, bewildered. "That has nothing to do with defeating Pan."

"It's a code name. Duh," I say. "So Pan won't suspect anything if you talk in your sleep or something."

"Why would Pan be listening to me talking in my sleep?" Violet asks. I just raise my eyebrows at her, and instantly she blushes scarlet.

"Oh, shut up and keep your dirty mind to yourself," Violet complains, burying her face in her knees.

"Aw, come on. you walked right into that one," I counter with mock innocence.

"No. You twisted my words," Violet accuses.

"Anyway," I grin. "The only way left to get to Pan is to infiltrate his camp, just like an old-fashioned spy."

"You can call me Bond... James Bond," Violet says with a straight face, "Now I just need a theme song."

"You should wait a while and then show up and steal his heart, playing the role of his beloved female equivalent," I pause, "So you'll be learning to be a Lost Girl," I say. "You know, pretend to become one of them and gather information so the rest of Operation Fudge Cookie can swoop in while you take out Pan."

"So you want me to stay in Neverland with a psychotic, conceited boy and his parade of bloodthirsty followers. And you want me to learn how to become one of his aforementioned crazed band of followers," Violet says in disbelief.

"Yeah, sounds about right," I smile at her. "Me and the rest of OFC will prepare at the base in Storybrooke."

"So I guess that means I'll have to say yes," Violet mumbles to herself.

"What?" I say, confused. "Yes to what?"

"Ah... nothing," Violet says hastily, looking decidedly guilty. I just shake my head.

"We have to meet Emma and the rest at Hook's ship," I say.

"Okay," she says, "Let's blow this popsicle stand."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews, not to mention the favorites/follows. :) **

_Three months later, after Emma and the gang, Arida, and Violet have all returned to Storybrooke_

_Violet's POV_

I lounge on my second story windowsill, absentmindedly twisting my bracelet around and dangling my feet over the edge, staring out at the fading sunlight. It is a full-fledged, sickeningly poetic pink-and-red sunset that looks like it is straight out of some sappy Disney movie. A summer breeze swings in sleepily through the window, toying with my hair and rustling the curtains. I check my watch with a slight frown. 8:14 and fifty seconds. Any minute now.

_Wish me luck, Arida, _I say telepathically, crossing my fingers for a response. Arida had said that she would try to get into touch with me ASAP, but she might not be able to right away because she has a band concert tonight.

I guess playing the trumpet comes before fighting Pan and his evil minions, because there is only silence as a response to my message.

So much for BFFs.

I sigh heavily, still picking at that annoying loose thread on my bracelet. I guess I'm in this mess alone. As I glance back out at the sky again, I hear the clock in my bedroom chime quarter after eight.

"Pe-ter!" I call out to the faint stars that are just now appearing in the summer sky. Which one is it? Third to the left? No, that isn't the right one. Second star to the right, I remember. I fix my gaze on the second star to the right, debating whether or not to pray to the spirit of Neverland. I wonder how Peter would react if he knew I am praying to his island, and I decide not to tell him. If he even comes for me, that is. Seconds tick by, and I can hear the tiny clock hand moving as clearly as if the little _ticks_ are as loud as drums. I stare at my watch intently, biting my lip. 8:15 and fifty-nine seconds. Last chance, Pan.

8:16.

Ah, poop.

"Pan!" I shout, irritated now. "Get your lazy butt down here!"

Strands of my hair blow into my eyes and mouth as a sudden gust of wind nearly knocks me off the windowsill. Spitting hair out of my mouth, I turn and stare at a shadow that has randomly decided to appear at my window— _his_ shadow. I grin so widely I nearly split my face in half, laughing in relief that the shadow showed up after all.

"A bit late, are we?" I tease the shadow. It just blinks at me with ghoulish eyes, and I shrug. Apparently shadows don't have a sense of humor. Who knew? "Take me to Neverland," I say, grasping its translucent hands gingerly with my suddenly very sweaty palms. The shadows yanks me roughly out into the sky, and I kick my legs wildly a few times before I relax, letting out a shaky breath.

"Are you sure you've got this flying thing down? Because this isn't exactly a private je-" I'm cut off as the shadow rockets off into the sky. I scream at first, but then I realize flying is more fun than scary. My skin feels like it's peeling off, and I think that was a mosquito that just hit my face, but the rushing wind feels _so good_. I let out a loud cheer, a huge grin spreading across my face, so wide my cheeks ache. Oh yeah- I'm going in style to Neverland.

And now my mission begins.

Now I can take down Pan.

And hopefully wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

xxx

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Pan snarls, scowling at me from the shadows at the edge of the jungle. "Are you lost?"

"Nah," I reply flatly, cocking my head as I stare back at him, a bored look in my eyes.

"Why are you here? And don't lie to me. The consequences won't be pleasant," he says coldly, crossing his arms and glaring daggers at me.

I raise my eyebrows, "I'm here for you, Peter Pan."

He narrows his eyes, "I'll ask again. Who are you?" Has he forgotten me already? Darn. I pride myself on being unforgettable.

I laugh knowingly and wave my hand, making a dagger appear from thin air. Pan looks at the dagger as I raise it, seeming somewhat puzzled. That's the only split-second of distraction I need. Rocking backwards on my left heel, I swing my right leg up suddenly, planting a nice hard kick right on Pan's chest. He stumbles backwards, and I take advantage of his loss of balance, leaping forward and pressing Pan to the ground, casually resting the dagger on his throat. I place my foot on his heaving chest, smiling sweetly down at him. He stares at me wide-eyed, paralyzed with shock.

"You know who I am, Pan," I say smugly, flicking my wrist to make the dagger vaporize as I take several steps back, smoothing my hair out of my eyes.

He hesitates, propping himself up with his elbow, "Violet?"

I sigh heavily in mock disappointment, "Took you long enough, Peter. Though it was fun to tease you like that," I turn, smirking.

He stands slowly and laughs. "Great," he says sarcastically. "I'm so glad you took pleasure in it. Although I must say, you are a decent fighter."

"Female equivalent, remember?" I say as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, gesturing at Pan and then at myself. "Anything you can do, I can do just as well. If not better."

"Tell me, Violet," Pan says, suddenly serious. "It's been three months. Why have you suddenly decided to come back now?" Silence falls between us as I struggle for the right words, words that will convince him to trust me. I bite my lip nervously, because in the end there's only one word left to say.

I stare at him, watching his green eyes blink, and my stomach boils in disgust as I say _the word_, "Yes."

"Yes what?" Peter asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking. He knows full well what I'm saying, but I decide to play along. At least a little bit.

"Yes... to the question you asked me three months ago. You know which one," I say haughtily, hands on my hips.

"Really?" he says, eyes gleaming.

No, definitely not.

"Yup," I say. Now I can't speak for the rest of the world, but I argue with myself all the time. It's just when I argue with myself and _lose_ that it gets really weird, and this is one of those times. Everything inside me shouts to get out of here and skedaddle back to Storybrooke, but I do my best to ignore it. This is my mission.

Pan grins as he takes my hand, leading me deeper into Neverland.

xxx

Pan leads me through the trees, toward an unknown destination. I try not to gag as he looks back at me slyly. Instead I just grin back awkwardly, and grimace behind his back as he turns back to the path ahead, his grip on my hand tightening.

_Arida? _I think.

There's a long pause, then I hear Arida's vice in my head, _Violet? How's it going, is Panny boy falling for you?_

_Yeah,_ I think, once again holding back a gag, _he's holding my hand now_— I stop abruptly mid-sentence because I can feel _him_ listening in. I did not know Pan has telepathy, but then I shouldn't be surprised. It's just like I told him earlier- anything he can do, I can do and vice versa. So suddenly I change my sentence, careful not to give anything away about the plot to get rid of Pan— _it's wonderful_, I lie quickly,_ he's pretty awesome. I think he likes my bad girl attitude._

_I do,_ Pan says, a smirk already on his face as he looks back at me again. Did you know there isn't a limit to how many times you can barely stop yourself from gagging in one day? It's new to me too. Thankfully, Arida doesn't reply to my telepathic message. Apparently she gathered that something was wrong when I started blurting out how awesome Pan is. That's why I have a friend who is so smart. She can take a hint, and she knows when to stop talking. Me, on the other hand... well, I never know when to stop talking.

"So you have telepathy," Pan says.

I nod, _And so do you._

He chuckles, as if to say 'duh, of course'._ C'mon, we are almost there, _he tells me, pulling me along even faster. I'm beginning to realize how annoying it is to have Pan in my head.

_Fantastic, _I reply sarcastically.

We sprint into a clearing at top speed. What I don't realize is that it's a clearing by a waterfall. More specifically, a waterfall that runs over a tall, steep, rocky, fall-to-your-death cliff. Pan stops abruptly, but I'm still running. I try to stop, but my feet slide out of control on the loose dirt on the cliff top, and I topple over the edge, plummeting toward the water.

"No!" Pan screams in horror.

I scream happily as I fall, holding my arms out wide like I'm a bird spreading my wings. Just as my toes brush the icy water, I pull up out of my sharp dive, my skin tingling with adrenaline. I drift upward and fly toward Pan. He doesn't see me because he's too preoccupied scanning the white and foamy waves for my dead body, so I decide to have a bit of fun. I land silently behind where he is kneeling, snickering to myself.

"Well, that was perplexing," I say loudly, folding my arms over my chest with a smug smile.

He spins around, green eyes wide with surprise, and I laugh at his dumb-struck expression, "Did you already forget I have magic?"

He shakes his head in bewilderment, _No one's magic but mine works in Neverland. No one with a shadow can use magic here at all._

I laugh again and step forward so I am fully bathed in light. I point to where my shadow should be, and we both look down at the sandy ground, "Well, I don't have a shadow." Pan blinks slowly, but seems to take this new information in stride.

He grins recklessly, holding his hand out to me, "Then follow me."

"If I must," I say with over-exaggerated caution, placing my hand in Pan's.

We leap over the edge of the cliff, our fingers tangled together. Anyone else would have fallen to their painful and extremely wet deaths, but instead Pan spins us in midair so we're facing the waterfall.

"Ready?" Pan shouts over the roaring of the waterfall, raising an eyebrow at me. I roll my eyes.

_Duh,_ I say telepathically. Pan lets out a loud whoop, and we soar through the icy curtain of water. Pounding white water fills my vision for a moment, but then we're through the waterfall, tumbling into a large cavern. Pan doesn't let go of my hand even as we sputter for air with dripping hair and wild grins.

"This," Pan says, gesturing with his free hand at the rock walls, "is where I go for alone time."

I raise my eyebrows, "You can get alone time in Neverland?"

"Believe it or not, yes," he _finally_ lets go of my hand, "I've been wanting to bring you here every day for the last three months."

I take a deep breath, "Speaking of the last three months. . ."

"Later. Let's enjoy this moment," I hear Pan whisper in my ear, his breath warm on my neck. I spin around, shocked at his sudden closeness, and Pan is _right there_, his green eyes flashing. I take an instinctive step back, but he slides an arm around my waist, holding me in place. Pan's lips catch mine— ew, ew, ew, EW— and he brushes my hair back, smoothing it down gently.

He leans in closer to kiss me again, but suddenly freezes, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he is listening to a sound only he can hear. Out of nowhere, he grabs my hand, pulling me towards the entrance to the cavern, "C'mon, the Lost Boys are calling."

"Uh," I say intelligently. Pan smirks at me, winking in a suggestive way that almost makes me throw up. As it is, I have to restrain myself from clamping a hand over my mouth.

"Don't worry, Violet," he says. "We can always continue this later."

Shoot me now.

Time to meet the Lost Boys

**A/N: Oh yeah, I ship Panlet. Leave a review if you ship Panlet too!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Violet's POV_

We leap out of the cave, through the pounding waterfall. The icy water slicks my hair back to my head, and I sputter as some of the water trickles into my mouth. My spluttering cough turns into a yell of exhilaration as for a moment I let myself freefall towards the sea. Pan is falling beside me, his eyes gleaming with boyish excitement. I smirk sideways at him, then lean forward to watch the water as it came rushing up at me.

Seconds later, there is a swift of rush of air by my ear as Pan pulls out of the steep dive, catching himself in midair before he collides with the water. Laughing wildly, I wait another split-second before pulling up.

"You pulled out sooner," I say smugly to Pan. He rolls his eyes.

"Mature," he comments.

"Says the boy who refuses to grow up," I shoot back.

"What's the fun in growing up," Pan says, "When you can have forever?"

"Forever with a bunch of teenage boys," I point out. Pan chuckles.

"Speaking of those teenage boys... how would you like to meet the Lost Boys?" he asks with a grin.

"They can't be any worse than you and your ego problems," I say playfully.

"Worse than me?" Pan raises an eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you found me... rather _magical_, if you get my meaning." I hold back a hiss of disgust, instead shoving him backwards. Then I take off into the sky, leaving Pan struggling to catch up.

"Shut up and fly, Panny boy," I call over my shoulder.

xxx

"You do realize that camp is the other direction," Pan says to me as we fly, doing a very bad job of hiding his smirk.

"I'm going completely on instinct here! As you seem to be forgetting, I don't live here," I exclaim.

"Not yet," Pan replies. I growl in protest as he takes my hand, but Pan only gives me an amused glance. Then he takes off toward the north side of the island, dragging me along with him. The violent wind whips me from side to side, and I realize I have never flown this fast before.

"Hey Pan- slow down!" I yell over the wind.

"But I like it fast!" he counters. "Don't you?" I scowl fiercely at him.

"Slow down. Now," I order. Pan's eyes glint at me mischievously.

"Well, if the lady insists," Pan agrees. I blink in surprise. He didn't argue. Why not? If I know anything at all about Pan, he would never back down. I shriek as Pan jerks to an abrupt stop in midair. Though he uses magic to slow himself down, I am so lost in my thoughts that I don't even notice. I keep flying forward, but since Pan is holding my hand, and he's directly in front of me... well, um... yeah... I crash into him at top speed, colliding painfully with his back. Pan, of course, takes full advantage of my sudden closeness. Before I can move away, he spins around. I swallow hard, but clearly Pan feels no such anxiety. He steps even closer, reaching out to slowly trail his fingers down my left arm. I try to hold back a shudder at his touch, but I know I have failed when Pan abruptly halts. Staring at me with dark green eyes, Pan lingers in my personal space, his face uncomfortably case to mine as he studies me calculatingly, his hand still on my forearm.

"Something's wrong," Pan mutters. "Are you okay, Violet?" I shut my eyes briefly before letting out a sharp breath of frustration.

"Haven't you ever heard of personal space?" I huff, crossing my arms defiantly. Pan smirks broadly, his eyes once again light-hearted. He leans away slowly.

"Well, if what this is all about..." he says teasingly. "I did warn you I like to go fast. Very, _very_ fast."

"Oh, you did not just say that," I say in disbelief, shaking my head. "How can you sleep at night with all those nasty thoughts swirling around in your head?"

"I manage," Pan responds. I shoot him my best I-am-not-amused look.

"Well, are we going to meet the Lost Boys or do want to continue to fill my head with dirty implications?" I say bitingly.

"Dirty?" Pan asks in mock confusion. "I wasn't aware I was implying anything."

"Lost Boys," I remind him.

"Someone's changing the subject," Pan grins, but points wordlessly toward a faint flicker of orange light far down below, in the jungle. I realize that it's firelight. That must be the camp of the Lost Boys.

"Geronimo!" I shout as I let myself freefall from a great height for the third time that night. I steer myself towards the firelight, breaking slightly out of my fall to swoop close to the trees. If I reach out I could even touch the branches... all too soon, I'm straight above the clearing that serves as the Lost Boys' camp. I lower myself to the ground gently, absorbing the impact by rocking back on my heels. Then I look around.

The first thing I notice is the boys. Teenage boys, all of them, even though some are clearly eighteen or even nineteen, and others can only be ten years old. They have faces smudged beyond recognition with dirt and ashes, and they all wear ragged, filthy clothes that remind me of the rags beggars wear in the Enchanted Forest, the ones Snow and Charming told me about. And _all _of the Lost Boys are gawking at me as if I have spouted wings. Which, I suppose, isn't entirely wrong, considering I'm a strange girl who just flew into the middle of their camp.

"Hey there!' I say cheerily. Not one of the boys respond. They just gape at me like the idiots they probably are. I frown slightly, putting one hand on my hip. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it isn't nice to stare?"

"You're a girl," says one of them in disbelief. I turn to look at the speaker, and swing my long hair over my shoulder for effect. It's some tall guy who's as skinny as a scarecrow with dirty blond hair and a completely blank expression on his face.

"Why, yes," I say, clapping my hands together excitedly. "Someone give the guy a prize!"

"There are no girls in Neverland," the guy sneers at me. I just smile sweetly at him.

"What's your name, kid?" I ask. He glares at me suspiciously.

"Felix," he mumbles.

"Well, Felix, I'm going to tell you a story," I say, briefly wondering where Pan is. He had been right behind me. "Once upon a time there was a magical island called Neverland. It was a wonderful place where you could do anything, even fly. But the best part was you never had to grow up. The king of the island was a boy named Peter Pan, and he had a big group of friends called the Lost Boys who lived on the island under his rule. But after a while Pan realized that girls were cooler than boys, so he decided to be awesome for once by bringing a girl to Neverland. Her name was Violet Wood, and she was an awesome, unbeatable, amazing, funny, smart, kick-ass girl who taught all the Lost Boys how to be cool. And they all lived happily ever after. The end." I smile cheerfully at Felix, who still looks unimpressed.

"Is that how you're introducing yourself?" he asks, bored.

"Yep," I reply brightly.

"Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine," Felix comments flatly. Then he finally seems to notice that every single Lost Boy is staring at us. He glares at them coldly. "Shut yer gaping mouths!" he orders angrily. "Ya'll look like idiots." Slowly the boys disperse, though many of them still shoot me weird looks. Soon it's just me and Felix, him glaring and me looking at him innocently.

"So where's Panny boy run off to?" I ask.

"You can't expect the king of Neverland to spend every moment of his time with you," Felix snickers. "He's got an island to run, _girly_."

"Doesn't answer my question," I point out, my patience fraying. This guy seriously gets on my nerves. Felix just gives me a nasty, crooked-toothed grin.

"You really don't want to see Pan right now," Felix states.

"Why not?" I demand.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Felix says tauntingly.

"On the contrary, sweetheart," I hiss. "You not telling me makes me want to know even more."

"Pan won't be pleased," Felix warns.

I shrug indifferently, "And I won't be pleased if you don't tell me where he is. It's kind of a lose-lose situation for you, Sunshine." Felix considers this for a moment.

"Well, it's your neck, not mine," Felix says, slowly warming up to the idea of me getting in trouble with Pan. "Fine. If you really want to know, he'll probably be at Dead Man's Peak."

"Probably? What does that mean?" I snap.

Felix raises an eyebrow, "I don't know for sure, but that's where he usually goes when... this sort of thing occurs."

"What sort of thing?" I ask through clenched teeth. Felix squints at me.

"Best to let you find out for yourself," Felix answers. I begin to walk away, towards the only tall mountain I have seen on Neverland. Of course, I assume that Dead Man's Peak would be the gigantic mountain, and I'm not about to ask Felix for directions. "Have fun, pumpkin," Felix calls after me.

"Right back at you, cupcake," I respond without slowing down or turning around.

"Back at you too, sugarplum," Felix yells.

"Ditto, honey muffin," I reply. As I leave, I hear Felix cursing. Apparently he can't do any better than honey muffin, and I don't blame him. Honey muffin is pretty much the end of the line. Violet Wood has the best comebacks in all the realms.

xxx

It literally takes _forever_ to get to Dead Man's Peak. I mean, I know jungles are made up of trees, but why do there have to be _so many_ of them? I'm constantly tripping over roots and having branches hit me in the face. Not to mention the serious lack of any sort of path. Why can't Neverland have hiking trails or something?

But eventually I do reach Dead Man's Peak. And my god, no wonder they call it that. Imagine a gloomy graveyard on a cloudy day. Then imagine that instead of patchy grass, the graveyard is made entirely of cold, dull gray stone that smells like metal and dead things. Next imagine that the stone graveyard isn't just a graveyard. It's a massive hill with sheer cliff sides that give off an unmistaken fall-to-your-death vibe. Last of all, throw in some creepy vines for good measure. Yeah. That's pretty much Dead Man's Peak. A stone graveyard on a mountain with some seriously shady looking vines hanging around it.

Interesting place to hang out, Panny boy.

I just stare up at the giant mountain for the longest time, unsure of what to do. Sure, I've climbed some of those fake rock-climbing walls at my friends' birthday parties, but this is something else entirely. And, it seems fair to mention, I have never been good at climbing those fake rock walls.

I am so screwed.

I could use my magic, but I'm already exhausted from flying with Pan. Not that I would ever admit it... but he may have more magic than I do. Slightly more. So, of course, I do the natural thing and holler for a sorcerer.

"Hey, Pan!" I yell. "If you can hear me, cough twice!"

"That won't be necessary," someone says from behind me. I whip around and- whoop-de-doo- it's Panny boy himself, leaning against a tree with a strange look on his face.

"Oh, hi there," I say happily.

"You can't be here," Pan says gravely. "How did you even find Dead Man's Peak?"

"Excuse me?" I can feel my eyebrows shoot up practically a mile off the ground. "In case you've forgotten, I don't really do the whole taking orders thing. Unlike that skinny smartass, Felix."

"Felix?" Pan's eyes darken. "I might have known he would tell you. He and I will have to have a chat when I return." I hold up a hand to stop him.

"Whoa there, Mr. Doom and Gloom," I soothe. "Don't take this out on Felix. It was my idea. Besides, Felix is my honey muffin."

"He's your _what?_" Pan asks incredulously. I open my mouth to explain, but Pan shakes his head to stop me, waving his hand dismissively. "Never mind that. It is unimportant. The point of the matter is, you can't be here," he says harshly, his jaw clenched tightly.

"You're hiding something," I reply coldly, staring at him. "And I'm not leaving until I figure out what it is."

"This isn't up for debate," Pan begins, launching into a tirade. But before he can get any further, a weird sound echoes down the mountainside, coming from the peak. Of course, Pan had already been up on the peak before I called for him. Instantly I am suspicious. I start towards the mountain to investigate the mysterious sound when I hear it again, louder this time. And now it is unmistakable. It is the sound of someone groaning in pain.

I have already used magic more than is probably healthy in one day, but I know Pan would never fly me up to the mountain. He's obviously hiding something. So, gritting my teeth, I fumble for the right spell to cast. Oh, right... okay. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, not reacting at all when I feel myself rise off the ground. I open my eyes cautiously as I float gradually to the top of Dead Man's Peak, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as my feet are on solid ground again.

But my relief doesn't last long. Only a second later, my eyes fix on the heap of clothes that's lying by a mass of thorny plants. No, wait... those aren't clothes... that's a person. A boy, curled up on his side, facing away from me. I rush over to him, grabbing his shoulder to move him onto his back. I am right. It is just a boy, a year or so older than me with dark brown hair and gray eyes. His face is oily with a sheen of sweat, his breath uncontrollably rapid. His entire body is twisted up with pain, and as I take my hand back from his shoulder, my fingers are coated with thick, crimson blood that looks black in the moonlight. I gasp in horror, then get to my feet. I grab onto the boy's heels, dragging him into the moonlight despite his cries of pain. I need to see how badly he is injured.

When I kneel over him again, I see just how bad it really is. His raggedy clothes are slashed to ribbons, and beneath them his skin is criss-crossed with long, deep slices that ooze blood like oil. It's like he has been attacked by a feral animal. Except those are unmistakably knife marks. And animals don't use knives. People do. That's when I go absolutely still.

Pan hadn't wanted me to go onto the mountain. Pan had done this. He had almost killed this boy. If I hadn't gotten here when I did... I shudder to think of what might have happened.

"So now you see why didn't want you up here," Pan observes. He has conveniently chosen to materialize beside me, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers nonchalantly.

"Yes," I say, my voice shaking with rage. "You didn't want me to see that you are a murderer." Pan reaches out, brushing his hand across my cheek in a soothing gesture than makes my skin prickle.

"No, I didn't want to corrupt your innocent little mind," Pan corrects. I slap his hand away.

"Don't touch me!' I scream. "If I hadn't come here when I did, you would've killed this poor boy! That's... that's... just disgusting! And how many people have you killed before? How many, Pan? How can you live with yourself?"

"I didn't do this in cold blood, despite what you might think," Pan snarls. "Don't be so quick to judge me. I was merely administering punishment for this boy's crimes."

"Crimes?" I echo in disbelief. "What crime could he have possibly committed that made him deserve this?"

"He tried to leave Neverland," Pan replies quietly, sounding puzzled. It's as though he doesn't understand why I'm so mad.

"Heal him," I tell Pan. "Heal this kid and take him safely back to camp, or I will never speak to you again."

Then I stalk off, not caring if I ever see Peter Pan again.

More than that, though.

I realize that I have been letting my guard down. Pan has been fooling me into thinking maybe he isn't so bad after all, but now I know better.

Without a shadow of a doubt, I know that Pan is evil.

And now my mission is back on track. No distractions this time. I will infiltrate Pan's camp and assassinate him. He will have no chance.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks so much for the favorites/follows! But no reviews of the last chapter? I'm disappointed in you guys. ;) Tell you what, here's the plan. I'm sneaking in a Doctor Who reference. If you catch it, leave a review. Also leave a review if you want Violet to keep calling Felix her honey muffin!**

After I storm back to camp, I walk into a random tree house, not really caring whose it is. Secretly, though, I hope it's Felix's tree house. I snicker just imagining the expression on his face if he walked in to find me in his tree house.

And anyway, there's no distinguishing features on this tree house. It's nothing special at all, so it probably doesn't belong to Pan or Felix. Pan's tree house would at the very least be cluttered with empty cans of hairspray and lots of mirrors, while Felix would probably have a fluffy pink diary in which he confides his innermost thoughts and feelings. This place has no fanciness at all. Just one room, with three walls. The last side of the tree house has no wall, and I notice the opening points directly towards the east. Towards where the sun would rise.

The only furniture here is a small table with a wooden cup and a sheathed hunting knife on it, and a narrow cot that serves as a bed. Welcome to Peter Pan's freaking military boot camp. I sigh heavily, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching the night sky through the opening where the fourth wall should be.

The stars wink tauntingly at me, but they already look faint. Dawn must be close. I grimace at the memory of the injured Lost Boy. I had told Pan that he would heal him or I would never speak to him again, but I know Pan too well. I know he won't just go along with what I say and do the right thing. I just hope he doesn't let that poor kid die. Apparently, Pan kills people if they try to leave Neverland. The thought is so repulsive, so _monstrous_ that I can't do anything but sit here, my hands clenched into tight fists as I stare out at the fading stars.

I must sit there for hours, because after a long time the sky changes to gray. A gentle breeze lifts the air gently, weaving the a breeze through camp like a silver thread. Dawn is here, without any word of that poor kid. Nothing from Pan or my honey muffin, Felix, since I had my little tantrum and demanded that Pan heal the injured boy. It was foolish of me, I realize. Pan's probability doubting my loyalty, which can't happen if I'm going to fulfill my mission and gain his trust. Besides, I already knew he was a bloodthirsty, heartless murderer, and know I have even more proof. I've got to be a lot more careful. I shudder to think what would happen to me if Pan ever finds out that I'm lying to him about everything.

"Ahem."

I turn slowly, "What?"

"Hello, sweetie," Pan says in his creepy British accent, lounging against the wall by the door to the tree house. Before I can reply, he grabs my arm, pulling me uncomfortably close to him.

I sigh and look up at him, "What do you want?"

His mouth twitches. With amusement? I can't tell. "I need to talk to you, but not here. There's a place I want to show you," Pan says intently.

"Fine," I groan, rolling my eyes. He leads me out of the tree house, striding through the Lost Boys' camp with his usual over-confident swagger. We walk through the jungle for a mile or so, until we reach a clearing with an enormous pine tree in it. Pan grins back at me, raising an eyebrow.

"This is my thinking tree," he explains. "Where I go when I want to-"

"Think? Yeah, I kind of got that," I interrupt, staring up at the tree. It seems to glow faintly, pulsing with pale green magic. Entranced, I take a step forward, my hand outstretched. When I touch the trunk gently, a shiver of warmth runs through me, almost as if the tree itself is accepting my presence. I sigh in contentment, and Pan eyes me contemplatively.

"You can feel it, then," he says, a satisfied smile playing at the edges of his lips. I look at him over my shoulder, keeping my palm flat again the tree.

"Yeah," I say softly, smiling back. Then I frown. There I go again, forgetting what a terrible person Pan really is. Forgetting that he really is a monster.

"Interesting that you can feel it," Pan remarks, steeping forward as he too touches the tree. The faint green aura of his thinking tree sparks at his touch, glowing a little brighter. "Only a few people can."

"What kind of people?" I ask.

"People who belong in Neverland," Pan replies. "This tree is imbued with Neverland's deepest magic, and only those who are born with Neverland in their blood and pixie dust in their heart can feel the presence of the tree." I shut my eyes briefly, ignoring Pan's words. I know that I don't belong in Neverland, even if Pan himself doesn't know.

To take my mind off of it, I blurt out, "It needs a name."

"You want to name my tree?" Pan asks, a crooked grin on his face as he struggles to hold back laughter.

"Totally," I tell him enthusiastically. "Her name should be-"

"My thinking tree is a girl?" Pan asks, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

I shoot him an incredulous look, "Well, duh. _Anyway,_ her name should be something epic, like The Black Death."

"You want to name my tree, which is apparently a girl, The Black Death?" Pan snickers, cocking his head to the side.

"Well, what do you suggest?" I demand. Pan trails his fingers over the bark of the tree, slowly moving closer to me.

"Now that you mention it, I have a few ideas," Pan answers in a whisper, raising an eyebrow suggestively. I just give him a dirty look, pulling my hand back from the tree and crossing my arms.

"I meant, an idea about naming the tree," I hiss in frustration.

"How about Gwen?" Pan suggests, staring up at the tree once more.

I wave a hand dismissively, "Nah, too boring. It needs to be something fan-freaking-tastic, like Gwenifer Kay."

"Gwenifer?" Pan chuckles. I laugh half-heartedly, telling myself over and over again that Pan is evil. He is evil. Even if he seems okay, never forget that he is evil. As I look away, staring off into the distance, Pan takes advantage of my distraction, grabbing my shoulders possessively and shoving me back against the tree. My head slams into the trunk of the tree, and I wince slightly. Just as I take a step forward, away from the tree, Pan presses himself against me. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, and Pan grabs a fistful of my hair as his lips dance lightly, almost teasingly, across mine. Inhaling sharply, I submit to the kiss, but allow myself a small grimace. Sensing my displeasure, Pan pulls back slightly, untangling his fingers from my hair.

"What is it, Violet?" he breathes, still too close to my face for comfort. I bite my lip, and Pan gives me a worried look. A look that I remind myself is fake. Pan is evil. "Is this about that boy?" Pan asks, studying me carefully. I nod slowly, shuddering at the memory of that poor boy, caked in blood, long stripes of crimson clawed across his chest.

"Y-yes," I reply shakily.

"He isn't dead," Pan smiles. My eyes widen.

"You- you healed him?" I stammer. Pan nods, tilting his head sideways and brushing his lips against my neck tauntingly. I suppress a shiver, trying to shove away the sudden urge I have to kick his sorry ass into next Tuesday.

"But I don't understand why you saved him, Vi," Pan murmurs, lingering far too long in my personal bubble before pulling back way too slowly. Vi? _Vi?_ Pan is calling me by nicknames now? Oh, God, I need Arida here so we can have a mutual freak-out moment.

"Peter," I shake my head, pushing him away from me slightly, "I rule Lost Girls differently. When a Lost Girl defies me, I don't kill them. Instead of death, I humiliate them. That humiliation casts them into disgrace with the other Lost Girls, and being disgraced is so awful that when they die, they view death as taking them to a "better place". I don't know why, but I can't stand killing people. There's something about it. It just feels wrong. Plus, it's like I'm the top tier of a pyramid. Powerful, but every time I kill someone it chips away at the base of the pyramid." Of course, I won't kill just because it is a horrible thing to do, but I need to put it into terms Pan's psychopathic brain can understand. And the only thing he understands is the hunger for power. And of course, I don't exactly have Lost Girls, I have Operation Fudge Cookie. But I humiliate them all the time, so I'm not exactly lying. And that _is_ how Arida and I deal with people who don't follow orders.

I shut my eyes, breathing in deeply, "You're strong and clever, Peter, but you can't keep chipping away at your pyramid. One day, it will all come crashing down." Then I open my eyes and look up at Pan, whose eyes are wide and thoughtful, a somewhat innocent expression I never thought I would see on Peter Pan's face. He smiles at me admiringly.

"Vi, you aren't just clever. You're awfully wise too."

I smirk, "Thanks, Pancake." Then, reminding myself that I need to make sure he trusts me fully, I lean in for the kill. Pan notices my hesitant movement and, with a sly smile, eagerly presses himself against me, once again pushing me straight into the tree. Our lips press together insistently, and Pan sighs in satisfaction. His hands clutch my shoulders with brutal force, and Pan leans his full weight against me, pressing himself even more firmly against me, as if that is even possible. After a moment that seems to last forever, Pan runs his hands down my bare arms, trailing his fingers teasingly across my forearms before letting them rest on my belt. I twitch at the gesture, but Pan merely takes that as an invitation to deepen the kiss, tilting his head sideways as he hooks his fingers around my belt loops. I pull back instantly, pushing Pan away from me abruptly.

"Little too fast for me, Pan," I say, catching my breath. Pan just smirks knowingly at me as he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I slap his hand away gently, leaning back against Gwenifer. He stares off into the distance, suddenly grabbing my hand.

"Look," he murmurs, pointing towards the horizon. I stare out at the gold and orange and reddish light blossoming in the sky, the fiery light glinting off Neverland's lush jungle. It's like the dancing, dangerous magnificence of a bonfire on a warm summer's night, the unique flash of glowing color that most people are only lucky enough to see a few times in their life. I gasp out loud at the beauty of it, and I can feel my mouth hanging open in awe.

"It's- it's- it's..." I stutter, completely entranced.

"It's beautiful," Pan whispers in my ear, deviously wrapping an arm around me. "Just like you." Shaking him off, I turn back to face him, flicking my hair over my shoulders haughtily.

"Oh, I know. But thanks anyway for the compliment," I say, all sassy and don't-mess-with-me. He grins back at me.

"C'mon, let's go have some breakfast," Pan says. He rises into the air, giving me a playful grin before turning in midair and shooting off towards camp. I follow him after a moment, though my flying is considerably less graceful. I console myself by remembering that Pan has had centuries to practice flying. My head spins as I breathe in the fresh morning air, enjoying the sensation of the chilly breeze on my cheeks. But why? Why didn't Pan kill the kid? Pan didn't kill the kid, and he actually noticed the beauty of the sunrise. What the freaking fudge happened to the Evil Pan?

**A/N: So yeah... hope you guys liked it. Remember... review about the Doctor Who reference, honey muffin, and also about Pan's new nickname. PANCAKE!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows! It means a lot. Also, there is a link to a picture of Violet's bracelet on my profile. My friend Iris would like me to tell you that she thinks Pan is the hottest boy on the planet. That is all.**

Later that night, nothing happens.

And I mean literally _nothing_.

The Lost Boys are hanging out around the giant bonfire, laughing and talking among themselves as they sharpen arrow heads and throw knives at each other. Good times. As usual, I sit by myself on a fallen log, staring into the flickering fire as I fidget absentmindedly with the bracelet Arida gave me.

It's not that I mind being alone- I don't. Especially not in Neverland, where there is no such thing as good company. But the total lack of any change whatsoever is driving me insane, and yes, that is possible. There has been no word from Arida, or from any of the Operation Fudge Cookie agents for that matter. I have no idea what my next move is supposed to be. If I haven't already gained Pan's trust, I'm pretty darn close, close enough that I'm ready to fulfill the rest of my mission sometime soon.

But that's the thing. I have no idea what my mission _is_. Without my telepathy, I feel cut off from the world. Maybe it's because I've learned to depend too much on my telepathy, but maybe not... either way, I feel useless without it. Trapped.

Sighing deeply, I glance around the clearing. Same old, same old. Boring Lost Boys being idiots. I know Pan has a thing for Lost Boys and all... but seriously, I have literally no one to talk to. Except for Pan himself, and he is too infuriating to speak with except on an absolutely necessary basis, and even that's torture. Not to mention his disgusting obsession with kissing me... I shudder at the thought, gagging. There's one good thing, though. Pan isn't at camp now. After we got to back to camp and ate breakfast, he went sort of pale and sprinted off into the woods like the crazy person he is.

I didn't say anything though. I was just like _"what a weirdo"_, and then I walked away. So yeah... I've been at camp the entire freaking day, dying of boredom, waiting for a message from OFC. Not to mention that I haven't slept at all in the last thirty-six hours.

Maybe being so exhausted is completely slaughtering my common sense, but I am sick and tired of waiting, so I decide to contact Arida with telepathy. It's a huge risk, I know, because Pan has telepathy and can hear any conversation between us. But Pan isn't anywhere nearby... at least I hope so. Looking around furtively, I see that the one and only Peter Pan is still off in the jungle somewhere doing who-knows-what, thankfully without me. I shift forward on the log, bracing my legs firmly against the ground as I pretend to be entranced by the Lost Boys' stupid crackling bonfire.

_Arida,_ I think. _You there?_

_Violet!_ her response comes almost immediately. _What the heck happened to you? You just stopped talking in the middle of the conversation. I thought Pan killed you or something..._

I grin to myself. _Aw, were you worried?_

_No,_ she replies dryly. _I was hopeful._

_Nice,_ I think sarcastically. There is a long pause before Arida speaks again, and I relax my tense muscles, leaning back against the trunk of a tree.

_So why did you just... stop talking?_ she asks. _Did he, um, you know?_

_No! I was getting tired of listening to you ramble on,_ I reply with a snort of laughter. From across the clearing, a Lost Boy shoots me a weird look, and I realize that I had laughed out loud. Oopsies. Better tone it down a little.

_Or maybe you were too busy to talk to me because you were doing other things with Pan, _Arida shoots back. and I can practically see her raising her eyebrows and giving me her best Pan-face. I scowl, wishing she could be here so I could slap her in the face.

_Gee, thanks for that lovely mental image, _I growl. _Actually, it turns out Pan has telepathy too. He can overhear any conversation we have._

After a brief pause, Arida thinks back to me, _So right now you can talk to me because...? _

_Thankfully, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is frolicking in the woods somewhere, _I explain.

_Voldemort? _Arida guesses.

_No, you geek. Peter Pan, duh, _I roll my eyes. _So what's the brilliant plan?_

Just as Arida is about to reply, I hear the faint tromping of footsteps coming towards the camp. Someone is coming.

_Later, sister, gotta go, _I say quickly. _Someone's coming._

_Uh-huh, _Arida thinks. _Give Panny boy a nice slap in the face from me. _

_Gotcha, _I say, biting my lip to keep from laughing. It's too much just imagining the look on Pan's face if I slapped him, his cheek bright red. I can feel my jaw tighten with nervousness as the footsteps scuff the dirt, only a few feet away now... and then the footsteps are passing right by me. Pan brushes the bushes aside easily, strolling into the clearing without giving me so much as a sideways glance.

I blink in surprise and relief. Thank the gods he didn't hear me talking to Arida. And for once, Pan actually looks... well, somewhat innocent, if that's even possible. He has a huge childish grin on his face as he walks to the center of the clearing, jumping onto a large gray rock next to the fire.

"Come on, boys!" he calls, spinning slowly to take in his not so little band of followers. They gather around him with eager grins, speculating in whispers about what Pan has planned for tonight.

"Hey!" I wave a hand in the air, not budging from my lounging position. Hey, what can I say? I'm comfy here. It's a nice log, really. "It's not just boys here. Sexist much?"

"And of course our very own Lost Girl," he says, the corners of his mouth lifting in a teasing grin as he mock bows to me. I roll my eyes.

"That's _Madam_ Lost Girl to all of you," I say lazily.

"Well, I'm not the most well-behaved boy on the island," Pan raises an eyebrow suggestively. "I must admit my manners are a bit rusty," then Pan turns back to the Lost Boys, addressing the crowd once more, "but tonight we won't need manners. Right, boys?" he pauses, "And my dear Madam Lost Girl."

The Lost Boys roar in approval, shaking their weapons in the air. I just sigh heavily. Whatever Pan is planning, it will no doubt be either potentially fatal or really stupid, probably a combination of both.

"Tonight, we celebrate," Pan rallies the crowd with ease. He's a good public speaker, I'll give him that much. The Lost Boys are hanging on his every word with shining eyes. They're like enthusiastic zombies, and I smile at the thought. Pan might just lead the zombie apocalypse. "Tonight," Pan says, his voice rising in volume, "We celebrate our first ever Lost Girl!"

"_Madam_ Lost Girl," I shout before the Lost Boys can start cheering. Pan grins at me playfully, and a few of them laugh, but Felix just shoots me an epic death stare.

I don't ask what Pan means by a celebration, because I know I'm going to find out anyway by watching what's going on. I watch with detached amusement as the boys begin to spread apart, moving in a strange, slow circular motion. As the majority of the boys flow smoothly into this pattern, two of them slip off to the side, dragging out something huge from behind a tree. Drums. They're dragging drums. But why?

I get my answer as soon as the two boys begin to pound out a fast rhythm on the drums. The rest of the Lost Boys speed up their strange circular movement to match the pace of the drums, adding in random leaps and spins as they move.

Wait a second... is this Pan's lame version of a dance party? I begin to snicker, which turns into a laugh, which turns into guffaws. Suddenly, I'm rolling on the ground with laughter, my sides aching an my face turning red.

"I... can't... breathe," I gasp between giggles, lying on my back and staring up at the treetops. Grinning, I prop myself up on one elbow, only to fall back with gales of laughter as I catch sight of the Lost Boys. They're just so... so _ridiculous_.It's hilarious.

I don't know how long I sit there, watching this crazy dance or tribal ritual- I'm not really sure which- but it is quality entertainment. The Lost Boys go on for hours, dancing and laughing and chattering wildly. Every so often, one of the boys ducks out of the magical dancing circle. Then they walk over to Pan, he hands them something, and they walk away with a smile. I'm at a bad angle, so I can't see what he's handing them. Frowning, I clamber to my feet, walking a little ways towards Pan so I can see what the heck he is giving the boys that makes them so slap happy.

As I walk towards the bonfire, the noise of the Lost Boys becomes so loud that I have to resist the urge to cover my ears with my hands. Scowling, I stop a few feet from Pan, crossing my arms as I lean back against a tree. Another boy, this one with dark brown hair and gray eyes, walks up to Pan. Unfortunately, I am close enough that I can also overhear their conversation. Believe me, the last thing I want to hear is Pan's voice. Doesn't that boy ever shut up?

"Pan," the boy nods respectfully, his gray eyes shining with glee.

"Rufio," Pan responds, giving him a twisted smirk. "No hard feelings about earlier, I hope?" Wow. That is such an un-Peter-Pan-like thing to say that my jaw actually drops. Pan sounds as cruel as always, but his voice is warmer, less focused, and his words seem less carefully considered. Slightly slurred, and almost careless. Unbelievable! Is Peter Pan losing his touch?

Rufio waves a hand dismissively, "Nah, nah. I was stupid, thinking I could leave Neverland," he grins drowsily, "Or that I would ever want to." Is that...? Is Rufio the boy who tried to leave Neverland? The boy who defied Pan? And now he's forgiving Pan as soon as Pan deigns to make conversation with him? All humor gone, I clamp a hand over my mouth, feeling sick to my stomach. This is beyond wrong. This... unconditional, blind loyalty is just so sickening, especially since it's loyalty to _Pan_, of all people. Heck, any Lost Boy here is more deserving of loyalty than Pan is. Even my honeymuffin, Felix, who has more than a few issues of his own.

"Right you are, mate," Pan claps Rufio approvingly on the shoulder, handing him a wooden cup that has appeared out of nowhere with the other hand. Wait. Did Pan just call Rufio _mate? _This is unbelievable. Totally insane. And that's coming from me, the freaking expert on crazy.

Stumbling slightly as Pan pats him on the back, Rufio accepts the cup with a lopsided, clumsy smile. As he staggers to the side, dark brown liquid from the wooden cup sloshes over him, cascading down the front of his tunic. Rather than even try to brush it off, Rufio laughs uproariously, and the other Lost Boys soon join him.

I stare at them uncomprehendingly, then at the drink in Rufio's hand. That's when I finally connect the dots. _Oh, God... he's getting them drunk. Pan's getting them drunk. _

Noticing my gaze, Pan sends me a cheery wave, grinning like an idiot.

"Hey there, love!" he calls. I roll my eyes.

"What do you want, Pan?" I ask wearily. He laughs, his eyes glowing. I don't think I've ever seen him this happy, and it's actually kinda creepy.

"Why... I want to fly among the stars!" Pan exclaims, spreading his arms out wide like they are wings. He uses his magic to levitate himself a few inches off the ground, chuckling.

"Suddenly, I'm getting Disney vibes," I mutter, turning away. As I begin to trudge back to my log- home sweet home- Pan runs after me, stopping me in my tracks with a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy, love," Pan grins happily. I try not to smile, but his cheer is contagious, and I feel a smirk spreading across my face.

"I'm not drinking with you and your idiotic friends," I tell him off, slapping his hand off of my shoulder.

Pan snickers," You're cute when you're annoyed, love. Maybe I should do this more often."

"Only if you want to have several broken ribs and a black eyes," I reply cheerfully.

"Don't be that way, love," Pan complains, folding his arms over his chest like a stubborn little kid. "Just.. lighten up a bit. Come fly with me, love!" He holds out his hand in a clear invitation.

Sneering in disgust, I slide away from the crowd of drunk Lost Boys, sulking back to my solitary fallen log. With a sigh, I plop down on the log, patting it sympathetically with one hand, resting my chin on the other.

"Did I ever tell you that you're my best friend in Neverland? Every actual living person here is a total jerk," I murmur to the log. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't reply. I'm so busy ignoring the Lost Boys that I barely even notice that one of them is approaching me until I see a pair of boots appear in the corner of my vision. With a sigh, I turn to the Lost Boy, smiling sweetly when I see that it's Felix.

"Oh, hello there, honey muffin," I say brightly. Felix just scowls at me.

"Don't call me that," he growls, his slurred words betraying just how drunk he really is. I just snicker, smirking at him devilishly.

"But it's adorable! Just like you..." I trail off, raising both eyebrows and giving him my best Pan-smirk. Felix's eyes turn dark with rage, and first the first time since meeting him I actually feel slightly afraid. Not very afraid, mind you, but enough that I feel a slight pang of nervousness.

"You think you can just waltz in here and do whatever you want to anyone," Felix snarls, stepping closer menacingly, almost like Pan. "You've made me a laughing stock. The other boys- they won't accept me anymore. Not when I've been bested by a girl." I simply look at him, twiddling my thumbs nonchalantly.

"Whoa there, Sunny boy," I soothe, holding up both hands in a gesture of peace. "How exactly have I _bested_ you?"

"You made a fool of me," Felix steps closer still. "No one does that and gets away with it."

"You have serious anger management issues," I muse after a thoughtful pause. That is the last straw. Felix's pride can't take anymore of my abuse. Hooking his fingers around the collar of my shirt, he lifts me off the ground with inhuman strength, slamming me against a tree. I cry out as his finger tighten around my neck, choking the air out of my lungs. Kicking wildly, I try to concentrate, to focus my magic, my heart pounding frantically, but my magic isn't working. I'm too panicked, my emotions are too scattered. There will be no magical help now.

Instead, I focus on shoving Felix away from me the non-magical way. I claw at his fingers, trying to loosen his grip, but I've never realized just how strong Felix is. I didn't think so much muscle and power could be in those little noodle arms.

"Oh, poor little girl," he sneers. "You think that just because you're Pan's little princess you can get away with everything. But not this time, girly."

Gasping for breath, I swing a punch at Felix's face, but it doesn't even come close to hitting him. I'm too weak... the world is too loud, too fast, like I'm slowing down... why is everything blurry?

Then suddenly, the terrible choking pressure vanishes. Felix is wrenched backwards, and I tumble to the ground, colliding painfully with the hard-packed dirt. Wheezing for air, I lift my head.

"Step away from the merchandise," Pan snarls, pushing Felix to the ground harshly, straight into the hard-packed dirt.

Felix falls on his hands and knees in the dirt, his face full of shame and fury. Pan stands over him, a look of such icy rage in his eyes that I can't help but shiver in fear.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Pan spits at Felix.

"Nothing," Felix says hastily, avoiding Pan's gaze. I slowly stagger to my feet, gripping the tree for support.

"Hmm. Nothing, you say?" one of Pan's eyebrows flickers up briefly. "How about we ask Violet. Let's see is she thinks it was _nothing_." Pan stalks over to me, sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest. I can feel my cheeks turning red, but I know there's no point in trying to pull away. He'll only hold onto me more tightly.

"It was nothing," I mutter. "Just Felix being his usual sunshiny self." Pan's grip tightens as he leans close to me, his lips brushing my ear.

"It's okay, Vi," Pan murmurs soothingly, his voice slurred. "Just say the word and I'll take care of him."

"What, like you took care of Rufio?" I snap icily. "I said it was nothing, and that means it was nothing."

"Fine, then," Pan sighs. "Go on then, Felix. Leave, before I change my mind and decide to punish you anyway. But I'll warn you now. If you hurt her ever again, if you so much as _look_ at her the wrong way, I will not hesitate to kill you." Shooting me a deadly glare, Felix slowly rises to his feet, stalking off into the woods. Something in his gaze warns me that this isn't over yet. Far from it.

Sighing in exasperation, I say, "You really didn't have to do that, Pan. I had it covered." He laughs gently.

"Yes, that was made perfectly clear to me when I saw you struggling helplessly as Felix choked the life out of you," Pan remarks innocently.

"Oh, don't be so lame, Pan," I complain, trying to push him away. "Let go of me already." Rather than let me go, Pan turns me in his arms. Suddenly only a couple inches of air separate me and Pan, and the iron-tight grip of his arms warns me that he's not letting me free just yet, if ever.

"Come on, Vi," Pan pleads. "Live a little."

I scoff at him in disbelief, "Are you high on pixie dust or something?"

"But I just saved your life," Pan says drowsily. "Don't I get any sort of thanks?" Knowing exactly what sort of thanks he has in mind, I tilt my head away from him slightly, putting as much distance between us as I can. Which is to say, not that much. Pan's breath smells unmistakably of alcohol. His words are unclear, his actions are unusually rough, and the typical sophistication that makes him Peter Pan is gone. If there's one thing worse than Peter Pan kissing me, it's a drunk Peter Pan kissing me, and I'm not about to let that happen.

"Whoa there, Pancake," I say calmly. "You're drunk. Go take a hike or a nap or something until you feel better."

"But Violet..." Pan protests, leaning his forehead against mine. "You're so pretty." I quickly lean away, suddenly anxious to get away,

"We've already established that, Pan," I reply dryly, trying not to let any of my panic show in my voice. "You're not thinking clearly."

"I don't need to be thinking clearly for this," Pan counters. His right hand trails lightly up my back to wrap around the back of my head, fingers tangling painfully in my hair as he forces me towards him.

"Stop," I order sharply, but Pan doesn't seem to hear me. I try to shove him away, but it's like trying to push my way through a brick wall. Utterly useless. Pan moans with pleasure as he smashes his mouth against mine roughly. I recoil at the bitter taste of alcohol that lingers on his lips, but he won't let me escape.

"Violet," he sighs, his eyes flashing darkly. Tilting his head sideways, Pan bites lightly at the edge of my lips, but I refuse to respond to him. I stand stock-still, frozen like a statue, completely horrified. Heck, I'd rather be throttled to death by Felix than this.

"Pan," I warn, a note of desperation creeping into my voice. "Pan, stop it now." He just smirks in response, biting down hard on my lip. Gasping, I shake my head, trembling when Pan's other hand trails tauntingly up the side of my leg, coming to rest on my belt. He tugs lightly at the belt, leaning forward to softly kiss the skin of my neck.

"Don't call me Pan," he says, his lips brushing my skin with every word. "Call me Peter." Then Pan lets his other hand slide down from my neck, tracing his fingers down my arm. Terror floods me, because suddenly both of his hands are clutching at the waist of my jeans. And I get the terrible feeling Pan isn't finished with me yet.

"Pan, stop right now or I will cut off your toes one by one and feed them to the sharks," I threaten.

"Hmm," Pan sighs against my neck. "I stand by what I said before. You're cute when you're angry." His fingers slide upward, lingering on the hem of my shirt for a moment. Then Pan slides his hands under the shirt, his fingers skating across the bare skin of my stomach. I cringe backwards, trying desperately to backpedal, but Pan isn't having any of that. He plants a light kiss on my jaw before once again crushing his lips against mine in a demonic kiss that seems to suck the life straight out of me. Struggling in his grip, I manage to twist away from him slightly, breaking the kiss, but he drags me straight back to him, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, yes, fight me," Pan murmurs, his hands gripping my waist under my shirt. I gasp as he lets one of them slide down to the button of my jeans, tracing the small brass circle with his fingers. "I love it when you fight, love." He leans in again, determined to steal another kiss, but at the last second I jerk away and his lips only skim my ear.

"Let go of me," I demand, squirming to get away. "Let go of me right now. Do you hear me, Peter Pan? Let go!" His breathing harsh, Pan finally seems to hear me. He lets his arms drop to his sides, staring at me intently as he steps back.

"This isn't over," he warns, his eyes glazing over. "I will have you... I... love..." Pan trails off in the middle of his sentence as he stumbles backwards , falling against a tree. Still shaking with fear, I turn and sprint off into the woods, determined to get away from him. To get away from Peter Pan.

xxx

I don't know how long I've been running through the woods. All I know is that I can't slow down, I can't stop. Not ever. Not after what Pan did... and what he almost did. Tears sting at my eyes, and I mentally yell at myself for being so weak. Pan shouldn't have the power to make me cry. I shouldn't let him have that power.

But the dark look in his eyes... the smell of alcohol on his breath... his hands sliding down to finger my belt... I can't forget it, and I don't think I ever will be able to forget it. The only way to escape is to keep running and never slow down. Because maybe, just maybe, I can outrun my fears.

I'm so focused on the tumbling thoughts inside my head that I don't even notice the echo of other footsteps nearby until I hear a loud, whooping yell. Oh yeah, then I notice. Their footsteps chase me through the pitch-black forest as my lungs scream for air. All I know is that I can't let them catch me. I need to escape. I need to get away.

But even though I sprint as fast as I possibly can, the Lost Boys are faster. Soon, they catch up to me, springing out of the jungle to form a circle around me. I spin around anxiously, scanning their faces for him. Thankfully, Pan isn't among them. However Felix, my honey muffin, is there, and he steps forward, clearly asserting himself as the leader. I just glare at him coldly.

"You really don't want to mess with me right now," I warn him.

"On the contrary," Felix grins at me, displaying a mouthful of crooked teeth. "I think we should finish our game from earlier."

"Come to kill me, huh?" I bark out a mirthless laugh.

"Only if you lose," Felix replied, his face suddenly serious once again.

"Lose what, exactly?" I snap. Felix draws a silver sword with a leather-bound hilt from his belt, brandishing it towards me.

"Someone give the girl a sword," he calls to the Lost Boys. I don't see which one it is, but one of the cloaked boys tosses a simple blade onto the ground. Raising an eyebrow, I pick up the sword. Normally would be running scared from something like this, but right now I have the intense urge to stab something. Repeatedly. With great force. Though stabbing Pan would be ideal, Felix is second-best.

"So what? Are we Jedi or something?" I say scornfully.

Felix ignores my comment, readying his sword. "Are you ready to duel?" he asks quietly. I bare my teeth at him in a feral imitation of a smile.

"Oh, please. I was born ready," I shoot back. Felix smiles darkly.

"Then let us begin," he replied.


End file.
